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Spanning the length and breadth of the twentieth century, Alice Mattison's masterful In Case We're Separated looks at a family of Jewish immigrants in the 1920s and 1930s and follows the urban, emotionally turbulent lives of their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren against a backdrop of political assassination, the Vietnam War, and the AIDS epidemic. Beginning with the title story, which introduces Bobbie Kaplowitz--a single mother in 1954 Brooklyn whose lover is married and whose understanding of life is changed by a broken kitchen appliance--Mattison displays her unparalleled gift for storytelling and for creating rich, multidimensional characters, a gift that has led the Los Angeles Times to praise her as "a writer's writer."… (altro)
Stories about a Brooklyn Jewish family constructed around the structure of a double sestina (poetic form, six lines, twice, a word repeated), and an iconographic object that links the tales like a puzzle. The family is both boisterous and secretive, and their interplay yields little loyalties and betrayals between them. ( )
I met a sweet man named Harold during the Eisenhower years, but Kennedy was president by the time we went to bed.
The Bad Jew
For one year, at fourteen, I went to synagogue.
Future House
Joan Applebaum, executive director of Future House---a nonprofit organization in New Haven offering mental health services to poor women---had provided coffee and cookies for the meeting of her board, though sugar and caffeine made the members quarrelsome, and Joan, who was taller and fatter than any of them, was trying to lose weight.
Change
My aunts claimed that my mother blurted out anything that came into her head, and though now I can't think of any examples, my mother and I believed them, and believed that bright people don't blurt.
Ms. Insight
At fifty-six, Ruth Hillsberg still wore her thick gray hair well below her shoulders though it caught in pocketbook straps and perhaps made her look out of control.
Boy in Winter
My first lover, James, died of AIDS many years ago, before The New York Times had noticed the epidemic.
Pastries at the Bus Stop
As I told my sister later, any reasonable person would have made the same remark.
The Odds It Would Be You
In 1976, when Bradley Kaplowitz was twenty eight, he took lessons and learned to drive.
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They had love followed by lunch, out in the city where the dead---kind or malevolent---couldn't be heard; where the malevolent living disappeared around corners just in time to be missed; and where everyone else was like them, lining up with sticky thighs for pancakes, Danish, or omelets.
She stood in her open coat with its empty pockets until she was cold, and then climbed the stairs to Lillian, who was alone in their room, her math book open, her sleeves pulled down over her wrists.
I started the car and drove away, searching the night---with its traffic and ordinary sounds---searching for something to want, something that might possibly happen.
In exchange for the foolish, pretty mother I never quite had again---and in exchange for her mute son, poised helplessly at the edge of the map---came shouts of harsh laughter from my friends.
Spanning the length and breadth of the twentieth century, Alice Mattison's masterful In Case We're Separated looks at a family of Jewish immigrants in the 1920s and 1930s and follows the urban, emotionally turbulent lives of their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren against a backdrop of political assassination, the Vietnam War, and the AIDS epidemic. Beginning with the title story, which introduces Bobbie Kaplowitz--a single mother in 1954 Brooklyn whose lover is married and whose understanding of life is changed by a broken kitchen appliance--Mattison displays her unparalleled gift for storytelling and for creating rich, multidimensional characters, a gift that has led the Los Angeles Times to praise her as "a writer's writer."
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